Paris is the end of a long season. Everyone is tired from rushing to shows and longs to get back to their loved ones. Then again, all it takes is a stroll along the Seine (perhaps along the Quai d’Orsay), on one of those beautiful bridges, with a blue sky and a sparkling city and I’m always happy. For the last few days it’s been raining, which in Paris means the entire city shuts down. Uber? Good luck. Want a bite? Only if you are very good at wrangling a table. Lots of traffic? Get cozy in the back of your ride and think of those who are still trying to find their cars. Like us after the Dior show, with hordes of photographers, police, and fans blocking off the road (due to Rihanna, I suspect), getting there was almost as arduous as leaving.

I arrived straight off the Eurostar with not a second to acclimatize to the madness but didn’t mind a bit. I was seated as per usual at the beautiful Musée Rodin next to my closest pal, artist Olympia Scarry. We had a necessary catch-up (thank you, Dior!) while awaiting the navy brigade of beauties in berets (Rihanna was, of course, in the new look plus green nails.)

But, no time to rest. Off I sped to meet my friend musician Mimi Xu aka DJ Misty Rabbit, spinning plates at Dior’s backstage party in celebration of their new Diorshow Pump ‘N’ Volume mascara. We took selfies with the creator and man behind Dior’s beauty line himself, Peter Philips, before I shot on to meet more friends at a dance party in the American Church in celebration of the cultish drink HeavenSake.

It sounds odd to be raving in a church, but apparently the rector herself was excited and hoping the event would introduce a new gaggle of worshipers to the church. Not sure that was on the happy crowd’s mind, but everyone was mesmerized while Japanese drummers Yamato performed between sets of electro bass and an illuminated bonsai tree above the DJ booth.

The next day had me whizzing around town past Paris‘s finest: artisanal bakeries, fromageries, and cafés. A little chèvre chaud kept me afloat before heading to the beautiful Sonia Rykiel show. There, next to actress and former Bond girl beauty Olga Kurylenko, we gossiped about love and life as the feathered pieces floated across the runway like birds of paradise.

I ended the evening with a traditional dinner gathering of my fellow Vogue girls, Selby Drummond and Sara Moonves, who dragged me to the impossibly cool hole in the wall Cibus. There, two Italians reigned fearlessly, speaking barely any language but Italian and practically making us beg for our table and food. Finally close to melting point and nearly fainting as we watched the impeccably chic Japanese fashionistas—along with Mario Sorrenti—feast on bowls of pasta, we got seated and feasted on truffle spaghetti and tiramisu ourselves.

A bit of rest and back I was seated front row at Valentino next to ballerina Hannah O’Neill, who has the exotic background of being half New Zealander and half Japanese. My front row neighbors included Kate Mara, Olivia Palermo, and Emily Ratajkowski. We all looked on as colorful lace gowns and printed silks in lush colors, paired with an edgier, punkier spirit, came down the runway.